


Written in the Stars

by elderkevinmckinley



Category: The Book of Mormon - Ambiguous Fandom, The Book of Mormon - Parker/Stone/Lopez
Genre: Alternate Universe, Arnold is a very good friend (but what else is new), Choices, Coffee Shops, Fate & Destiny, Flirting, Fluff, France (Country), Friendship, Getting Together, Humor, Implied/Referenced Sex, Kevin thinks he's a playboy but he's actually a hopeless romantic, Love, Love at First Sight, M/M, Mild Angst, Post-Canon, Romance, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-04
Updated: 2018-05-04
Packaged: 2019-05-01 09:56:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14517981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elderkevinmckinley/pseuds/elderkevinmckinley
Summary: Kevin Price is a coffee-drinking, rule-breaking missionary from Salt Lake City, Utah.Connor McKinley is a smart, shy French student from Dayton, Ohio.Complete opposites and yet somehow exactly the same, they both think they have life all figured out. That is, until a chance encounter at a café in Paris propels them into a whirlwind romance—one that is destined to fail once Connor is forced to return home in only two months time.





	Written in the Stars

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ottomatonic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ottomatonic/gifts).



> I was Fippogrox's bunny for bom-spring-fling on Tumblr! XD I wish I had more time to work on this, but alas, twas not so. Anywho, I was so excited to be able to write this for them! Enjoy~
> 
> Also heartfelt thanks to call_me_tears for betaing this for me!!

_“It is not in the stars to hold our destiny but in ourselves." - William Shakespeare_

 

* * *

 

It was Saturday morning and, for some reason, it was more crowded than usual at the Café Destin. Or rather,  _Le_ Café Destin.

Connor sighed. He had to keep reminding himself to try and think in French as much as possible if he was ever going to learn to speak the language fluently enough to pass as a native. Not that it really mattered, of course, considering he was only going to  _be_ in France another couple of months anyway, but Connor McKinley had always been a bit of a perfectionist when it came to things like that. If he was going to do something, he wanted to do it right. And that was just the way he’d always been.

He glanced longingly out the large café window, watching the people walk by, bustling and smiling and strolling along. It sure was a beautiful day outside—one of those rare, perfect days where the sky seemed just a little bit bluer and the trees looked almost greener, somehow, and the flowers all seemed to bloom brighter and more colorful than usual.

Not that he’d get to enjoy any of it though, he thought, as he turned back to face the espresso machine with a sigh.

No, he had the good fortune of working a double shift again that day on account of Francois calling in sick again. That made two Saturdays in a row now.

The young man who was supposed to work the seven o’clock shift that morning was probably hungover again, much as he was nearly every Saturday morning. Connor had been out on the town with Francois enough times to know he tended to go a little crazy with the wine and the vodka and the not really caring about the time or what apartment he ended up sleeping in thing. He was awfully reckless and Connor didn’t like reckless. Reckless was dangerous and costly and caused far too many problems.

It was just as well. Connor hadn’t planned any great activities for the day, anyhow. He probably would’ve just holed up in his apartment all day long, studying for his big History midterm on Monday.

 _Groan_. He still hadn’t studied for the test which was definitely a problem because he currently had a B in History and he needed to get at  _least_  an A- to maintain his 3.9 GPA. Connor made a mental note to start studying the moment he got home that night. He had off from work the next day, much like he did nearly every Sunday, so he’d have plenty of time to study then. Nodding to himself in finality, he made it a plan—that night and Sunday would be for studying and nothing else.

Looking up from the espresso machine, he took a moment to survey the room. It was the usual crowd of university students and professionals on their laptops and tablets and whatnot, many of whom had been sitting there for hours on end despite only having ordered one measly cup of coffee.

He was about to call out to his manager to let her know he’d be taking his fifteen-minute break, but stopped in his tracks upon seeing a tall, rather attractive boy enter the café. His medium brown hair looked rather messy and disheveled, as though he’d just gotten the wind taken out of him or something, and Connor could see that underneath the boy’s dark blue blazer, his tie had come undone.

Connor watched him carefully for a moment, for what reason, he wasn’t quite sure. The boy turned around, glancing nervously behind him at the patrons of the café, before finally approaching the counter. He glanced around one more time, as though he feared someone might see him.

“Hi, there,” the boy finally said to Connor before choking on his words. “I mean,  _bonjour_.”

It was hard, but Connor managed to control a snicker.

An American boy. A  _cute_  American boy. This was going to be fun. He didn’t often meet Americans here and especially not ones with such striking good looks, so this was indeed a rare treat for Connor McKinley.

“I want to, um,” the boy started before slamming his eyes shut, as though trying _really_ hard to remember the right words. “Je...um...un deux espresso, please.”

Having difficulty controlling his grin now, Connor just gave the boy a blank stare, pretending he hadn't understood a word he’d just said.

“Erm...did you understand my order?” Kevin asked, worriedly.

“Tu ne peux pas parler français,” Connor said in a tone of feigned confusion, just to mess with him a little. “N'est-ce pas?”

“Is this like Starbucks where you need my name or something?” The boy asked with a dopey smile, obviously having no clue as to what Connor had just said. “Je suis…uh, je suis le Kevin,” the boy said, awkwardly, mispronouncing each word, save for his own name. “Kevin Price.”

With that, Connor actually let out a tiny giggle. After all, this boy had just uttered the phrase “ _I am the_   _Kevin_ ” in the worst fake French accent he’d ever heard in his life.

“Do you understand?” Kevin asked warily, to which Connor just shook his head with a shrug. “Goddammit,” the boy swore under his breath, as though this had to be at  _least_  the hundredth time this had happened to him and, Connor thought, given the boy's abysmal French, that it probably was.

“Alright, hold on a sec,” the boy named Kevin Price said, holding up a finger as he fished out a book from his jacket pocket. “Just hold on one second...er,  _un second.”_

Connor just shook his head as he watched Kevin spend the next few moments flipping through what Connor could now see was a French-English dictionary. Somehow, the redhead stifled a laugh as he watched the boy in front of him struggle—the boy whom Connor found to be impossibly attractive despite being completely disheveled and speaking horribly inaccurate French.

“Okay, I got it,” Kevin said, clearing his throat as he prepared himself to recite from the book. “Je veux bois, erm...je veux un bois espresso.”

He looked up again at Connor, who just shrugged.

At that, Kevin seemed to grow more and more frustrated. It was adorable, but Connor knew he'd have to stop messing with him soon, especially if he wanted to flirt with him.

“Alright, hold on…” the brunette mumbled and started maniacally flipping through the dictionary, getting more and more upset.

“Okay, stop,” Connor finally said with a laugh. He reached out and placed a gentle hand over the book. “Just stop.”

He couldn’t take it anymore. This boy’s French was downright  _awful_  and Connor desperately wanted to flirt with him. And he certainly couldn’t do that while pretending to not speak English, could he?

“First of all, your French is terrible,” Connor said to the boy, plainly now in his natural American mid-western voice. “Second of all, most people here can speak English too, so you don’t need to go through all that trouble butchering the language just to order a cup of coffee. Next time, just say ‘give me a cup of coffee’ and leave it at that.”

“Uh…” Kevin started, his mouth dropping open a little.

“Thirdly, do you want a free chocolate chip cookie with that?” Connor asked, his tone softer now. “Because you sure as heck look like you could use a cookie.”

“Wait,  _what_?” Kevin sputtered, looking awfully confused. “You’re  _American_?”

“Maybe,” Connor said airily, trying his best to hide the smirk on his face. “Now do you want that free cookie or not?”

“Of course I want a free cookie,” the boy stammered, obviously frustrated. “But that’s not the point. Stop distracting me with cookies.”

“One double espresso and one extra large, extra warm chocolate chip cookie coming right up.”

“You were just trying to mess with me, weren’t you?” Kevin huffed and shook his head, looking mildly irritated. “Weren’t you?”

“Oui, oui, monsieur,” Connor said in his rather flawless French accent, no longer trying to hide the grin on his face. “You catch on quick.”

Kevin scoffed at that, but Connor could see the smallest trace of amusement peeking out of his lips. He looked offended, yes, but also almost...impressed?

“Sorry, it was just too easy,” Connor apologized sheepishly. He met Kevin’s eyes from across the counter as he pulled down the lever on the espresso machine. “Besides, that look on your face was  _priceless,_ ” he added with a giggle.

They shared a brief silence, Kevin’s eyes seeming to soften at the sound of Connor’s giggle.

“So, what’s your deal anyway?” The brunette asked after a few moments. He was leaning over the counter now, watching Connor as he made his espresso. “What are you doing here?”

“I work here," Connor said, gesturing to his uniform. “Or couldn’t you tell by the apron?”

That made Kevin roll his eyes, but at least he was smiling now. “I meant, what are you doing _here_ …in France.”

“I know what you meant,” Connor sang with amusement as he slipped Kevin’s warmed chocolate chip cookie into a little paper bag. “I’m from Dayton, Ohio but I’m studying abroad this summer. It’s all part of this honors French program I’m in at Ohio State—I get to spend the whole summer studying in Paris. How about you?”

“Oh, uh, yeah...me too. Same thing.” Kevin nodded, but he looked a bit unsure about his answer. Connor actually thought he looked as though he was downright lying.

He raised a skeptical eyebrow at Kevin, causing the other boy to stumble over his words. “I mean, well, kind of....you know...sorta, kind of, but not really, I guess.”

“Sorta…kind of…but not really...you _guess,_ ” Connor repeated slowly. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It’s, uh, it’s a long story,” he said in a tone that told Connor he didn’t really want to talk about it anymore. Connor wouldn’t push it. Not yet, anyway. “But, I’m, um, I’m from Salt Lake City, Utah.”

Connor’s ears perked up at that, his curiosity peaked yet again.

 _Salt Lake City_? Weird. Connor wondered silently if the other boy was also Mormon, but he didn’t know him nearly well enough to ask him something like that. Not yet, anyway. Instead, he decided to just pick on him some more. And maybe even flirt a little. Same difference.

“Well, judging by your  _God awful_  French, I’m assuming you haven’t been here very long,” he gently teased as he poured Kevin’s double espresso into a to-go cup. “At least, I sure hope not.”

“Oh, uh...” Kevin’s cheeks reddened a touch at that. “Yeah, I just got here on Thursday.”

His smile looked a tad guilty and Connor thought he was probably lying again. Nevertheless, he gave the cute brunette a knowing smile as he handed him his coffee and warm chocolate chip cookie, on the house.

“Well, I'd be happy to tutor you some time, Kevin Price from Salt Lake City, Utah,” Connor offered bravely, knowing his cheeks were probably turning just a little bit pink.

He’d never asked a boy out before in his life and he didn’t know what was possessing him now. There was just something special about this Kevin Price from Salt Lake City and Connor wasn’t willing to let him go so easily.

“In French, I mean,” Connor clarified nervously. “You could use the practice, especially if you’re gonna be here for a while.” The redhead paused for just a moment, glancing down shyly at his feet before peeking his eyes back up to meet Kevin's. He shrugged in an attempt to appear casual. “Are you, um, are you gonna be here for a while?” He asked, coyly, hoping to God his voice wouldn’t give away the fact that he  _really_  hoped Kevin was going to be here for a while.

“I think so,” Kevin said softly, his eyes sparkling just a little. They were definitely sparkling. They hadn’t been sparkling like that earlier, but they were  _definitely_ sparkling now. “And I just might take you up on that, um—?”

“Connor,” the redhead finished for him quickly, practically squealing on the inside. “Connor McKinley.”

“I just might take you up on that, Connor McKinley from Dayton, Ohio," Kevin said with a warm smile, gesturing a cheers with his espresso cup at Connor. “I’ll see you later, okay?”

Before he could even think straight and not wanting to lose this boy Kevin to some cryptic, vague  _see you later_ nonsense, Connor could already hear himself saying the words.

“Eight,” he blurted out, stupidly, and Kevin immediately turned back around. “I get off at eight.”

 _Idiot_ , he thought to himself.  _Way to look desperate. Besides, you don’t even know if he’s…_

“I’ll see you at eight, Connor McKinley from Dayton, Ohio,” the boy named Kevin said with a wink, making Connor’s heart do a little backflip.

As Kevin disappeared through the doorway, Connor couldn’t help but squeal a little and maybe he also did a tiny little happy dance behind the counter, where nobody else could see him.

He had a  _date_. With a boy—a cute boy—a  _very_ cute boy who had messy hair and an undone tie and didn’t really know what he was doing in France, but he might of, kind of, sort of went to school here.

Alright, so Connor needed to find out more about  _that_ whole thing later on, but right now, in  _this_  moment, Connor McKinley was just excited to finally be going on a date with a very attractive boy whose terrible French he found positively endearing.

 

* * *

 

“Where have you been?” Kevin could hear Arnold chastise him the moment he rounded the corner to meet him at the bus stop.

The last few minutes had been a whirlwind for Kevin. He’d managed to not only get an illicit cup of espresso that he’d chugged down in less than five seconds ( _and_  a free cookie, he might add), but he’d also, somehow, managed to nab himself a  _date_ for that night—with a boy. A cute boy. A cute boy who worked in a  _coffee_  shop.

Well, if that wasn’t breaking the rules like a goddamn champ, Kevin Price didn’t know what was.

“You’ve been gone for over twenty minutes.” He heard Arnold complain as he felt himself being pulled down to sit next to his friend at the bus stop. “Where were you?”

“Bathroom,” Kevin said, guiltily. He wiped a rogue crumb from his lip and lifted up the oversized cookie to offer some to Arnold. “Cookie?”

“Uh uh,” Arnold said, narrowing his eyes just a little. “Where were you _really_?”

Kevin sighed. There was never any use in keeping things from Arnold. His best friend was bound to find out eventually, especially since he’d be sneaking out of their shared room that night to go meet Connor. Besides, he’d never been very good at lying to his best friend.

“I was getting a cup of coffee, alright?” He admitted, knowing a tongue-lashing from Arnold would immediately follow.

“Coffee!”

_There it is._

“You were getting  _coffee_?” Arnold cried out so loud, Kevin was sure the people across the street could hear him. “You told me you stopped drinking coffee after we left Uganda!”

“Yeah, well,” Kevin said as he took another bite of cookie. “I lied.”

“We’ve been _over_  this, Kevin,” Arnold groaned, as though they’d been over this a million times before—and, indeed, they had been. “You agreed to at least _try_ , didn’t you? Didn’t you?”

“Under coercion,” Kevin reminded him. “You know I don’t have any interest in peddling this made up crap any more than you do,” he said, gesturing to the Book of Mormon he’d just revealed from his pocket.

“Dude,” his friend said in a tone of parental reprimand. “I know and I feel you, but don’t you remember what happened the  _last_  time we started breaking the rules? Shit. Went.  _Down_.”

“Yeah, it did,” Kevin said in the most meaningful tone he could muster. “And it led to the best fucking year I’ve ever had in my entire life, Arnold. I was finally free from all of this... _stupidity_.” He sighed, flopping the Book of Mormon against his leg.

Kevin leaned back against the wall of the bus depot, watching on as pedestrians walked past them, laughing and talking and holding hands. And, for a moment, all he wanted was to just be one of them. He wished he could just be  _normal_  for once— that he could just be a normal guy who could meet another normal guy in a café and the two of them could go out on a normal date without having to worry about sneaking around or breaking the rules or getting in trouble or drinking coffee or anything like that.

Kevin tried not to get angry about it. He knew he shouldn’t get so worked up over it all the time. After all, they only had another six months to go and then his mission would be over. He knew he shouldn’t have been going around, blatantly ignoring the rules, doing whatever he felt like doing, like drinking coffee and flirting with boys and talking trash about the Book of Mormon. He  _knew_  he shouldn’t. He knew it would only serve to get him in trouble again—to get  _them_  in trouble again. And they’d honestly been through enough trouble over the past year to last a lifetime.

And yet, still, he found that all he could think about was the cute redhead from the café, the one with the pretty blue eyes and warm smile and freckled cheeks, the one he kinda sorta had a date with that evening. He could feel a small smile playing at his lips now as he replayed the memory from just a few minutes before, back at the café, and he found that the more he thought about it, the bigger his smile grew.

“What are you so happy about?” He heard his best friend snort, breaking him from his thoughts about the cute barista named Connor McKinley.

Kevin glanced at Arnold, taking a moment to think about himself and his best friend. Arnold may have matured a lot since their Uganda days, sure, but deep down, his best friend was still  _Arnold_ —the same bumbling, warm, loyal, good-to-a-fault Arnold who honestly wanted nothing more than to see his best friend happy.

Kevin glanced around them for a moment, just to make sure no unwanted fellow missionaries were wandering about. There just seemed to be so many _more_ of them here compared to Uganda.

“Okay, don't freak out, but…I may or may not have a date tonight,” Kevin leaned close to Arnold and whispered, biting down on his bottom lip to hide the huge grin threatening to burst onto his face.

“You  _what_?”

“With a guy,” Kevin continued, utterly failing at hiding his grin. “I have a date tonight...with a  _guy_.”

“ _What_?” Arnold cried. “Kevin, that goes against like...,” the chubbier boy started counting out on his fingers, “...five, six, seven...I don’t even  _know_  how many rules!”

Arnold looked as though he was on the verge of hyperventilating, to which Kevin just gently patted him on the shoulder and offered him a piece of cookie.

“This is it, I’m doomed,” Arnold groaned, bending down to plant his face into his hands. “I'm doomed and my parents are going to murder me and everything’s ruined and it's literally all your fault.”

“Oh, come on, you are not  _doomed_ ,” Kevin said optimistically, giving his best friend a comforting pat on the back. “When have I ever actually gotten caught breaking the rules, huh? We’ll be fine, trust me.”

“So who is he?” Arnold asked after a few moments of quiet. “The lucky guy, I mean.”

Kevin smiled to himself at that and took another bite out of his cookie.

“Connor,” he said simply, mumbling through the bite of cookie, as though Arnold should already know who that is.

“I’m gonna need more than that, Kevin,” his friend said. “Like, where’d you meet him? What does he do?”

“He works at the coffee shop around the corner.” Kevin beamed, pointing in the direction he'd just come from. “He gave me a free cookie  _and_ told me he’d tutor me in French.”

“He’s  _French_?” Arnold asked, seeming to perk up a bit at that. “Oooooh, does he have one of those really romantic French accents that just makes you  _swoon_  and turn to total Jello whenever he talks?”

“No, no, he’s not French.” Kevin shook his head with a laugh. “It's really weird, actually. He's from Ohio.”

“ _Ohio_?” Arnold’s face fell in disappointment at that.

“Ohio.”

His friend scrunched up his nose. “Well, that’s not romantic at all.”

“But he speaks French really well,” Kevin said with a little smile and bashful shrug. “Like, really, really well.”

“Ooh, go on,” his friend prodded excitedly in a way that let Kevin know that Arnold really was quite happy for him, despite his earlier objections. Kevin knew his best friend only ever wanted him to be happy. He just didn’t want Kevin to get into too much trouble on his way to happiness, that’s all.

“Well, he has these really pretty blue eyes. I mean, they were mocking me the  _entire_ time I talked to him, but still, they were just...very blue and twinkley and...kind...and he’s got these cute little dimples and freckles all over his cheeks...,” He abruptly stopped talking once he realized how silly he probably sounded. He glanced down for a second and let out a shy laugh. “Boy, do I sound smitten or what?”

“ _Definitely_  smitten.” Arnold beamed happily, making Kevin’s cheeks flush a little. “So does he know about, uh....ya know, all this?” He asked after a moment, gesturing to themselves. “You know, about the whole Mormon missionary thing and all?”

“Oh, um, no,” Kevin said, his tone laced with guilt. “I mean, not—not  _exactly_.”

Alright, so what if he may have purposefully hidden his _Elder Price_  name badge under his blazer the moment he saw the cute redhead behind the counter? That didn’t mean he was  _keeping_  it from him or anything. It wasn’t a secret—he just didn’t really feel like  _advertising_  it, that's all.

“So he has absolutely no idea that the only reason you’re even here is to go around ringing doorbells and preaching the word of Heavenly Father?” Arnold asked, as though Kevin had gone completely insane. “And that in order to even go out on this date of yours, you’ll have to break like a zillion rules and sneak out of the house like some kind of teenaged vigilante?”

“No, I didn’t go out of my _way_  to tell him, Arnold,” Kevin spat, annoyed at all of this negativity. He could feel it dampening his mood, ruining his happy moment. “Mormonism is kind of a mood killer, don’t you think? I mean, it’s pretty much the  _least_ sexy thing I could  _possibly_  tell him about myself.”

Arnold just rolled his eyes. “Seriously?”

“Besides, I highly doubt anything will even come of this,” Kevin reasoned with a nod of his head, more to remind himself than Arnold. “I mean, it’s just  _one_ date, right? And it’s not even  _really_  a date. He’s just gonna tutor me in French, that’s all.”

Arnold just gave him a look that told him exactly how far he could see through his bullshit.

“Look, if it turns out he needs to know, I’ll tell him,” Kevin relented with a sigh. “And if not...well, then I can just be like this...dashing, mysterious stranger from Salt Lake City with the devilishly handsome good looks who just so happens to be the best kisser Connor McKinley from Dayton, Ohio has ever had the pleasure of kissing and—and I’m okay with that.”

Arnold didn’t say anything at first, so Kevin took advantage of the brief lull in the conversation to take another big bite out of his cookie.

“What if you fall in love with him?” Arnold asked, rather seriously, and it caught Kevin completely off-guard.

“What?” Kevin choked a little on his cookie before shaking his head in bewilderment, “I’m not—I’m not going to fall in _love_  with him, Arnold.” And he said it as though the very idea was totally ridiculous. “That's ridiculous.”

“Really?” His friend asked, skeptically. “‘Cause you seem pretty smitten to me. I mean, you _just_ said so yourself.”

“Sure, but that’s not _love_ , Arnold. Love is different,” Kevin explained, giving his rather naive bestie a pat on the shoulder. “It takes _time_ to fall in love.” He said the words confidently, as though it were an obvious fact, something everyone should know.

But in truth, Kevin Price had never actually  _been_  in love before, so how could he possibly know  _what_ it was supposed to feel like? Sure, there may have been Elder Moore, back in Uganda, and maybe he and Kevin had kissed a few times and maybe they’d even fooled around a little, too. In fact, that was probably the rude awakening Kevin needed to finally come to terms with his own sexuality, but it sure as heck wasn’t... _love_.

“Besides,” Kevin continued with a confident nod, “he’s only here for the summer. Come September, he’ll be long gone. We don’t even know if this will turn into anything and even if it does...well, we both know it’s only temporary.” He patted Arnold on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, buddy. I have this _all_ under control.”

“You’re crazy.” Arnold sighed with a shake of his head. “But I love you anyway—even if you do drink coffee and break the rules and sneak out of the house in the middle of the night to go meet your soulmate.”

“He is  _not_  my soulmate,” Kevin said with a laugh, playfully bumping into Arnold’s shoulder, silently letting him know that he loved him right back. And he did, very much so.

The bus eventually came. They spent the rest of the day ringing doorbells and spouting shit they didn’t really believe in anymore and Kevin's smile didn’t falter, not even once. In fact, it only grew bigger and bigger the closer it got to eight o’clock.

 

* * *

 

“Knock knock,” Kevin said to no one as he entered the café, opening the door a crack and peering his head part-way inside.

The lights were all dimmed now, much dimmer than before, and the place looked like a ghost town. As he wandered inside to greet an empty room, he felt a fleeting rush of fear that perhaps Connor McKinley had stood him up.

Regaining his sensibilities, he quickly shoved those negative thoughts aside. He knew Connor wouldn’t do that to him. Not that he knew Connor at _all—_ at least, not yet—-but Kevin had a hunch that the red-haired barista wanted this just as much as he did. He could see it in the way his eyes had gotten all twinkley and happy earlier when Kevin agreed to meet him at eight, the smile that just wouldn’t leave his face the entire time they talked, and not to mention his eyes—his eyes just looked so kind. Amused, but kind.

No, Connor McKinley would never stand him up. At least, not without a very good reason.

“Hello?” Kevin called out again, nervously now as he still couldn’t see his redheaded date anywhere in sight.

Okay, he _really_ needed to stop thinking of this as a date. This _wasn’t_  a date. Not really, anyway. It was just a study session, that’s all. This boy, Connor McKinley, was going to tutor him in French because Kevin’s French was awful and he really shouldn’t have been expecting anything more than that.

He knew this and yet a part of him still couldn’t help but hope for the night to maybe end with their lips locked together, arms circled around each other’s waists, and hands roaming wherever they wanted to go…well, no, they shouldn’t do  _that_. At least, not on their first date. And  _especially_  not on their first not-really-date.

“Kevin!” He heard his name being called out from the back of the café. When he glanced behind him, his eyes found Connor, walking out of what looked like a storage room.

 _Finally, Connor_.

Kevin could feel his eyes soften the moment they locked with the other boy’s.

The redheaded barista was now dressed in normal everyday clothes rather than his work uniform. He looked rather spiffy in his dark blue button down shirt, tucked into slightly-baggy khaki pants. His wavy hair was fluffed up a little and Kevin was able to catch a whiff of cologne as the boy approached him.

Kevin was, unfortunately, still donning his missionary uniform, but without the name badge, of course. No, that blasted thing was tucked away safely in his back pocket, thank you very much.

“Well, hello there, Connor McKinley,” Kevin greeted the other boy with what he hoped was a charming smile. He was trying really hard to come off as cool and not at all nervous but he wasn't sure whether or not he was succeeding at that. “I was almost starting to think you were just messing with me again.”

“What?” Connor chuckled, play-slapping Kevin in the arm. The brunette felt himself relax just a little at the touch. “Don’t be silly. Come on, I have everything set up in the back.”

He gave Kevin a warm smile, taking Kevin’s hand and leading them to a secluded corner in the back of the café. Kevin’s nerves were still on edge, a tangled mess of hot wires, so even the smallest touch, the feeling of this boy’s fingers delicately gliding over his own, caused a ripple of adrenaline to surge through Kevin’s body.

This was, by far, the most exciting thing to happen to Kevin Price since...well, since Uganda, that was for sure.

He still couldn’t believe he’d actually _snuck out_ of the mission house. Arnold was covering for him that night, of course. They had a plan. If anybody asked, Kevin was “sick” and wasn’t able to come out to dinner. He was sleeping off whatever bug he’d caught that day and if anyone suspected foul play and entered their little room, Arnold had made sure to create a very convincing Kevin-shaped lump under the covers. That would be enough to satisfy anyone taking a peep into the room—as long as they didn’t pull the covers down, of course.

“Wow, what’s all this?” Kevin asked, surprised, as he sat down and observed the giant spread in front of them.

The table was filled with various fancy cheeses, crackers, pastries and, much to Kevin’s surprise, a bottle of what he assumed to be some kind of French wine. Kevin may have broken a lot of missionary rules (like, a whole lot), but he’d still never touched any kind of alcohol before. The idea of trying it for the first time in front of  _Connor_ of all people, someone he was trying his hardest to impress, made him feel a little wary. That said, he didn’t want to appear inexperienced or lame or childish either, so he figured he'd just play along and pretend he was actually a super suave guy who always kicked back with a glass of French wine after a long, hard day.

“Oh, well, um, I just figured if we’re going to teach you French, we might as well eat some French food while we’re at it,” Connor said with a bit of a shy blush.

Kevin hadn’t seen the boy blush until just now. He proceeded to add it to the ever-growing list of small little things he liked about Connor McKinley. And he sure did like the way he looked when his cheeks were all flushed and rosy red. It somehow made the very adorable boy in front of him look even more adorable.

Connor sat down nervously, quite close to Kevin, and spread out a textbook— _French for Dummies—_ and a notebook, in front of them.

“Should I be offended?” Kevin said, pointing to the name of the textbook with a smirk.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Connor mused with a secret smile, opening the book and getting their pencils and such ready, “judging by the mumbo jumbo I heard coming out of your mouth this morning, this book should be the perfect thing for you, don’t you think?”

“Very funny.”

“Okay, so let’s start at the beginning,” he said as he turned his attention to preparing their plates of food. “First of all, tell me how long you’ve  _really_ been here and why.”

Kevin could feel his cheeks burning at the directness of the question—a question of which he didn’t have a very good answer.

When Connor looked back at him and their eyes met, the redhead giggled and shook his head.

“Come on, Kevin,” Connor said. “You don’t honestly expect me to believe you  _just_  got here on Thursday, do you?”

As he handed Kevin a little ceramic plate with swans on it, the redhead proceeded to pile it high with an assortment of cheeses and crackers and fruits.

“Alright, so maybe I stretched the truth a  _teeny_ tiny bit,” Kevin admitted, looking away from Connor’s knowing eyes. “Maybe it was more like last month.”

When he looked back up, he saw nothing but warm amusement in Connor’s eyes.

“Wine?” Was all the other boy said in response, readying the tip of the bottle to Kevin’s glass.

“Oh, uh, yeah,” Kevin nodded nervously, “I’d love some.”

“I wasn’t sure what kind of wine you liked so I just pulled this one out of my little collection.” Connor shrugged as he heftily filled the brunette’s glass. “Hope you like it.”

“Oh, yeah, I totally love the, um,” Kevin stammered as he glanced at the label, “…the 2014 Château Cheval Blanc.”

Connor raised a questioning eyebrow. “You’ve had it before?”

“Oh, yeah,” Kevin nodded vigorously with an air of false confidence, hoping it wasn’t too obvious he was straight up lying. “All the time.”

“Really? 'Cause it’s pretty rare,” Connor said in a tone of suspicion and Kevin could see the amusement was back in the redhead’s eyes. “And expensive. I was actually saving it for a special occasion.”

Kevin found himself looking down now, choking on his own words.  _Idiot_ , he chided himself.  _Way to mess up again_.

“Are you saying I’m a special occasion?” Kevin asked coyly, trying his best to shake off his earlier mistake and put a playful smirk back on his lips.

Now it was Connor’s turn to blush, shifting the invisible power back to Kevin again in this strange little game they were playing.

“No, no. I—I didn’t mean it like that,” Connor said, his freckled cheeks positively flushed. “I just meant—I, um, I haven’t been able to make too many friends here, that’s all. I mean, between working and going to school and everything,” the redhead admitted with a shy smile. “Besides, I’m only here for another couple of months anyway, it just didn’t seem worth it.” He paused a moment and looked into Kevin’s eyes. “But I’m, um, I’m glad you’re here with me now.”

They shared a few moments of peaceful silence as Connor poured himself a hefty glass of the velvety red liquid as well. Once their glasses were both filled, Kevin lifted his up, raising it in a kind of toast.

“Well, I’d be honored to be your friend, Connor McKinley. Even if it is only for another couple of months.” Kevin grinned and clinked his glass against Connor’s. “Cheers.”

“Cheers,” Connor said, beaming with that warm, bemused smile of his that Kevin Price was slowly starting to fall in love with.

 

* * *

 

Abandoning the  _French for Dummies_  textbook when Kevin couldn’t seem to pay attention long enough to make any real progress, Connor came up with a much more entertaining way for the two of them to practice their French—asking each other questions _._  He figured at least, that way, they could get to know each other and study French at the same time.

The rules were simple—they could ask each other any question they wanted in English (Connor had learned rather quickly just how abysmal Kevin’s listening skills were after he answered “du Mac and Cheese” to the question “Do you have any pets?”) but they  _had_  to answer in French. If they (meaning Kevin) didn’t answer in French, Connor docked five points—that was the rule.

But, as Connor was slowly starting to learn about Kevin Price—he was absolute  _shit_ at following the rules.

“So what are you  _really_ doing in Paris?” Connor asked pointedly, as it was the question that had been gnawing at him all day long. Well, that, and wondering whether or not Kevin liked boys in the way Connor sure as Hell hoped he liked boys.

“International super spy,” Kevin answered matter-of-factly, somehow doing so with a straight face.

“Like James Bond?” Connor snorted as he took a sip of his wine. “Please.”

“Hey, you don’t know. You could be talking to Price,” he said with a finger gun pointed at Connor’s head. “Kevin Price.”

“Get over yourself,” Connor said and gave Kevin’s arm a playful smack. “And that’ll cost you another five points.”

“Seriously?” Kevin sighed. “At this rate, I’ll never win the house cup.”

“You could try speaking French, you know,” Connor reminded him. “That _is_ why we’re here, isn’t it?”

“Sure it is.” Kevin just smirked at that, his smile so coy and knowing that Connor could actually feel the flush returning to his face with a vengeance. Every time Connor thought he’d _finally_  taken hold of this metaphorical power bouncing between himself and Kevin, the other boy just yanked it right back.

A while passed, full of questions and flirting and gentle teasing and, eventually, they’d both taken to stretching out on the floor instead, both boys laying atop a blanket Connor had dug up from the back. They’d brought their wine and snacks down with them so it was sort of like an indoor picnic. Connor still made sure to keep a safe distance away from Kevin though, just in case the optimistic idea he had about this being a date turned out to be completely wrong.

“How old are you?” Connor asked after a few quiet moments. “And please, for the love of God, answer in  _French_  this time. You’ve already been docked fifteen points as it is.”

“Je suis…uh…vingt-ans?” Kevin said more like a question than a statement. “Did I get it right?”

“If you were going for ‘I am twenty years old’—then congrats, you _finally_  got one,” Connor deadpanned before taking a long sip of his wine, a tiny smile tugging at his lips. He may have gotten a bit too much enjoyment out of teasing him.

“Yes!” Kevin lifted his hands in the air, woo-hooing himself with a great big grin. “Five points to Kevin-dor!”

“Okay, can you  _please_ stop calling yourself Kevin-dor?” Connor closed his eyes and shook his head. “It’s seriously weird.”

Kevin just stuck his tongue out at him and shoved a big biteful of cheese into his mouth.

“Your turn.” The redhead chuckled at Kevin’s silliness. While the other boy took a moment to think of his next question, Connor took the opportunity to take a slow bite of his own camembert cheese and simply gaze at the boy sitting across from him.

Unlike Connor, Kevin seemed to dislike the more savory, smellier cheeses. He’d also barely touched his wine, despite insisting that Cheval Blanc was his absolute favorite brand and that he drank it “all the time”.

Connor knew that was such a load of crap and he was honestly starting to think that this Kevin Price lied about too many things. Not just that, but he also seemed to have the palette of an eight-year-old.

But, for some strange reason, none of that seemed to matter to Connor. He still felt an intense attraction towards this boy, Kevin. It was a nagging, all-encompassing, ruthless attraction that only grew the longer they sat there together. It seemed as though the worse the boy’s French sounded, the more Connor found himself smiling. The more cheese Kevin spit out in disgust, the more he laughed. And whenever he flashed that bright smile of his, Connor could actually  _feel_  his heart melting, if only a little. It was an anomaly, that the two of them were so vastly different and yet so exactly the same. Connor couldn’t understand it—he’d never felt such a strong connection with anyone before in his entire life—and  _especially_  not with anyone he'd only known for all of two hours.

He silently wondered if Kevin felt it too, or if it was all just in Connor’s head.

And just what  _was_  it about Kevin that was making him feel so...well, he would say in _love_ , but no, that would be impossible. He couldn’t possibly be in love with a boy he’d just met that morning. He barely knew this boy, Kevin Price from Salt Lake City, and yet he was definitely attracted to him. And not just for his handsome good looks. No, being with Kevin just made him feel really  _good_  inside. A weird, messy, gooey good that he’d never felt before in his life. And happy. Insanely happy.

Connor still wasn’t sure if Kevin was gay or not though and that was starting to nag at him. He assumed the other boy was gay based on a few little clues he’d picked up here and there, but  _just_  in case, he thought about making that his next question in the game—just to be one hundred percent certain. Sure, it might make him look desperate and it might break this little façade they had going about this not being a date, but he needed to be sure, especially since his heart was already starting to feel awfully warm and fuzzy for this boy.

“You said nothing’s off the table, right?” Kevin asked after a moment, ripping Connor from his inner thoughts.

Connor cocked his head to the side, his curiosity once again peaked. His curiosity seemed to get peaked an awful lot when it came to Kevin Price.

“Right,” he said slowly, giving Kevin a squinty-eyed smile, “but that doesn’t mean I have to answer—not if the question makes me uncomfortable.”

Kevin nodded, looking away from Connor’s gaze for a moment.

“Well, I was, um, I was kind of wondering if you were, um…if you liked…uh,” he stammered for a moment, struggling to get the question out. Finally, he just sighed in defeat, seemingly giving up. “You know what, never mind. What’s your favorite dog breed?”

Connor raised an eyebrow at that. Was Kevin trying to ask him what he’d been aching to ask him this entire time?

“What were you going to ask me?” He asked, curiously. “The first one.”

“Nothing.” Kevin shook his head. “It was stupid. Just answer the dog thing.”

“No,” Connor said, a hint of desperation in his voice. “Go on, ask me the first one.”

Kevin was quiet for a few moments before he finally looked back up into Connor’s eyes. “Well, I just wanted to know if you were, um…you know, if you were, uh…”

“Gay?” Connor asked, softly. “Are you asking me if I’m gay?”

Kevin’s cheeks turned bright red at that. “Well, um, yeah, that’s kind of what I was going for...sorry for being so weird. I’m just not used to asking people that question, that’s all.”

Connor’s lips curled up into a soft smile at that.

“Oui,” He answered, matter-of-factly, before biting down on a cracker. He watched as Kevin visibly sighed in relief. That was a good sign. “Es-tu?”

Kevin just shrugged and shook his head. “No idea.”

“Wait,” Connor said, shaking his head. Kevin’s answer just confused the Hell out of him. “No idea what I said in French or no idea if you’re gay or not?”

Kevin snorted at that, nearly spitting out the cheese he’d been chewing. “No idea what you said.”

“Are you serious?” Connor laughed a little. “Okay, we _really_ need to work on your French, sweetie,” he joked. And he was blushing again. He seemed to do that an awful lot around Kevin Price. He glanced down shyly at his own plate. “So…um, are you or aren’t you?”

“Am I what?” Kevin asked, innocently, as though he didn’t have the slightest clue as to what Connor could  _possibly_ be asking about.

Connor rolled his eyes, annoyed now at this game. “Are you gay or aren’t you, Kevin? Do you like boys or not?”

“Well, that’s kind of  _personal_ ,” Kevin said in a tone of feigned admonishment, smirking as he shoved another piece of cheese in his mouth, “isn’t it?”

Connor leaned all the way forward  _just_ to play-punch him in the arm for being such a jerk. “You asked me first, you know. Now just answer the question—are you gay or not?”

“Maybe,” Kevin said airily, leaning back further against the wall and popping a grape into his mouth. “Maybe I am.”

“ _Maybe_ you are.” Connor shook his head. “Sorry, that’s not an acceptable answer, Kevin. Try again.”

“What’s it to you, anyway?” Kevin asked and Connor knew for sure that he was just messing with him now.

Connor just snorted. Kevin Price really was a piece of work—a really smart, funny, cute piece of work ( _so_  cute), but a piece of work nonetheless.

“You really are a piece of work, you know that?” He said to Kevin, giving the other boy’s leg a little kick, just for good measure.

“Ow.” Kevin scowled, rubbing his leg. “This is abuse.”

“You deserved it.”

“Maybe I did,” Kevin admitted and sat up, inching a bit closer to Connor. “But you still didn’t answer my question.”

“Sorry, I guess I couldn’t hear it over the sound of your gigantic ego.”

The brunette pretended to be offended at that, but his eyes were still smiling with a fondness for Connor.

“I  _said_ —what’s it to you if I’m gay or not?” Kevin asked again, looking deep into the redhead’s eyes.

Connor quieted his laughter now at the directness of the question. He took a moment to think, awkwardly shifting around a bit.

“I was asking because…wait, you know what, this isn’t even fair," he huffed. “You asked  _me_  first and now you just did this thing where you turned it around so it’s on me now. How is that fair?” He gave Kevin’s leg another kick. “Jerk.”

“It's not fair.” Kevin smirked. “But you still haven’t answered my question.”

“You broke the rules, by the way,” Connor continued his rant, ignoring the question. “You’re not supposed to answer a question with a question. That isn’t how this game works. Also, I’m docking you another ten points for not speaking French.”

“Do you want to know or don’t you?” Kevin asked with a playful grin—it was expectant, waiting,  _eager_. Connor had a good mind to smack that grin right off his face, but he also  _adored_ that face, so it was a conflict of interest.

Kevin crawled a little closer to Connor, so that they were laying side by side now, Kevin propping himself up a little on his elbow, leaning over Connor, who was laying on his back. They were awfully close now, Connor thought worriedly. He was honestly afraid he might accidentally kiss him. His hormones that evening weren’t exactly in check—not around Kevin, anyway.

“Answer my question and I’ll answer yours,” Kevin said softly, reaching out to take Connor’s hand, “deal?”

“Fine,” he sighed and reluctantly locked hands with the other boy. It felt weird because Connor hadn’t locked hands with another boy in a long time, but it also felt absolutely amazing and exhilarating and he could feel little flutters taking over his heart as he felt Kevin’s thumb gently graze over his own.

He was honestly hoping Kevin would be the one to admit his attraction first, but he supposed he would need to be the adult in this relationship, after all. Not that this was a  _relationship_ of any kind. Not that it ever  _would_  be, even, considering the circumstances. Whatever they were, whatever they were about to become, Connor knew he needed to be the one to step up first because clearly Kevin wasn’t going to do it.

“I mean, I guess it doesn’t even matter since…since we only have the next two months to spend together anyway,” Connor said quietly, his tone a bit sad now. He gave Kevin a bit of a shrug, “but I think I kind of…I kind of  _like_ you, Kevin. I—I like you a lot, actually.”

Kevin’s entire face softened at that, his eyes sparkling as they gazed directly into Connor’s, and in that moment, the redhead knew he’d made the right decision to tell this boy the truth. Even if they did only have two months to spend together—those were two months Connor would happily take.

“I like you, too,” Kevin eventually whispered and leaned closer to Connor’s face. “I like you a lot, actually.”

“I mean, I know this is kind of sudden and all,” Connor nervously continued, “and I know we don’t really know each other that well yet, but I, um,” he looked down to his lap with a shy shrug, “I’d  _like_ to,” he said quietly, glancing up after a moment to see how Kevin was reacting to his admission. “Get to know you, that is.”

“I’d like to get to know you too, Connor McKinley,” Kevin said softly, leaning his body even closer to the other boy’s. Connor could feel Kevin’s warm breath on his cheek now, his hand giving Connor’s a gentle squeeze, sending more _feelings_ bolting through his body. This was almost too much to handle.

They gazed quietly at one another for a few moments, neither one of them quite sure what the next move should be—until Kevin decided he knew  _exactly_ what the next move should be.

Before he knew it, Kevin was already leaning in and pressing an urgent kiss to his lips, deciding that that would be the best way to answer Connor’s question. Connor wasn’t about to argue with that logic—after all, he’d been physically aching to kiss Kevin ever since he’d walked through the café doors that morning.

“Wow,” Connor gasped as he pulled back, breathless, from the unexpected kiss. Coming back to reality now, he could feel little tingles of electricity flooding through him,  _especially_  down below. It ached. But it was a magnificent, wondrous kind of ache. “You’re a really good kisser, Kevin Price.”

“I know,” he murmured and leaned back in for more.

He received no objection from Connor and they stayed there, exactly like that, both of them laying haphazardly on the café floor, holding one another close, kissing softly, hands running through soft locks of hair and up shirts and over skin and other places, too, until finally, after a couple of hours, they both fell sound asleep.

 

* * *

 

“Kevin!” Arnold squawked the moment he saw his companion climb back in through the window. “It’s four o’clock in the morning! Where were you all night?”

Breathless now, from running from the bus stop all the way to the mission house, Kevin flopped back on his bed with a thud. Now that his muscles weren’t aching so much, he found he couldn’t contain the gigantic grin that had spread out onto his face. Sure, he couldn’t see it, but he could  _feel_  it and it sure was a wide one.

“I was with Connor,” Kevin replied simply and with an air of contentment.

He opened his eyes slowly and glanced over at Arnold. He was on cloud nine and he didn’t care who knew it.

“It was amazing, Arnold,” Kevin found himself positively  _gushing_. He was gushing and he didn’t even care what anyone else might think. “He’s—Connor—he’s amazing. He’s just…amazing.”

“Oh, no," Arnold sighed. “I was afraid this would happen.”

“What?” Kevin asked, his face falling at Arnold’s reaction. “Aren’t you happy for me?”

“Of  _course_  I’m happy for you,” Arnold said softly, a tiny, reluctant smile on his face.

Kevin watched his friend climb out of his own bed and hop into Kevin’s, making it  _creak_  rather loudly. Kevin instinctively moved over to make room for his companion, who now proceeded to wrap an arm around Kevin’s waist, squeezing him tight.

“Then what’s wrong?” Kevin asked, suddenly concerned that maybe something unpleasant had gone down while he was out. “Oh, God.” He paled. “The plan didn’t work. Everyone knows I was gone. They’re going to kick me out...,” Kevin sputtered off, alarmed now that all of his carefully made plans had been somehow been foiled.

“No, no, no, relax,” Arnold assured him with a squeeze. “They all bought the sick story. Everything was fine.”

“Thank  _God_.” Sighing in relief at that, Kevin flopped back against the pillow and allowed the stupidly large grin to return to his face. “You had me scared there for a second.”

“I’m just...I’m just a little worried about you, that’s all," Arnold admitted, snuggling up closer beside him. “Don’t get mad at me, but it sounds like you’re falling pretty hard for this guy.”

“I’m not—I’m not _falling_  for him, Arnold,” he lied. “We had  _one_ date. You can’t fall in love with someone after only one date.”

“Look, I swear I’m not trying to bring you down or anything. In fact, I am  _so_ happy for you, Kevin. I really am. It’s just..”, Arnold said with a sigh, “it’s just...I know that  _look_  in your eyes. It’s the same look I had for Naba.”

“Had?” Kevin asked, his face falling just a little. “I thought you guys were doing the whole long distance thing?”

“We are.” Arnold nodded, optimistically. “And I love her. You  _know_ how much I love her. But it’s still hard, you know? I mean, she’s in Uganda and I’m stuck here and we’re both miserable. I just—I just don’t want you to have to go through all that, that’s all. I care about you, buddy.”

“Yeah, I know,” Kevin whispered, softly, not quite sure how to quell his best friend’s fears. Typical Arnold—always looking on the downside of everything. “But you don’t have to worry about me, okay? It’s not the same thing. Connor and I both know this is only temporary. It’s not like you and Naba.”

Secretly though, Kevin had a sinking feeling that it kind of  _was_ —not that he’d ever admit that to Arnold though.

“It’s not always up to you, ya know,” Arnold advised, gently. “You don’t always get to choose who you fall in love with. It just happens one day when you least expect it and then you’re _totally_ screwed.”

“How comforting,” he sighed and closed his eyes again, trying to force his brain to drift back to it’s former happy place, thinking about himself and Connor and how magical their evening had been.

Kevin and Arnold eventually fell into a rather comfortable silence, with Kevin’s mind retreating back to thoughts of Connor; and Arnold, well, Kevin had no idea what Arnold was thinking, but he was pretty sure he’d be hearing all about it pretty soon.

“So, did you tell him the truth?” Arnold broke their silence first, after a while. “About the whole Mormon missionary thing?”

“Come  _on_ , Arnold,” Kevin groaned, his eyes popping open and his smile faltering yet again. “Why do you always have to do this, huh?”

“Do what?”

“Can’t you ever let me revel in my happiness for, like,  _one_ second before you start with all of your negative downer questions?”

“You didn’t tell him,” Arnold said knowingly, lifting his head off of Kevin’s chest so he could properly glare at his friend. “Kevin.”

“Of  _course_  I didn’t _tell_  him,” Kevin spat, sitting up a bit. “And I’m not planning to any time soon either so you can just stop asking me, okay?”

“How long do you really think you can keep this a secret from him?” Arnold asked, out of concern.

“I don’t—I don’t know, okay?” Kevin stammered, not wanting to talk about this anymore.

“And how many times do you really think I can get away with telling everyone you’re ‘ _sick_ ’?” Arnold asked, doing a sarcastic air quote at  _sick_.

Kevin tried not to get upset. He knew Arnold was only saying these things out of concern. After all, he could see the concern clear as day on Arnold's face, but he still didn’t want to  _hear_ it. He just wanted to go to sleep and have sweet dreams about him and Connor doing things to each other that no God-abiding, self-respecting Mormon would ever do.

“I mean, what did he say when you just got up and left in the middle of the night?” Arnold asked. “Didn’t he wanna know where you were going? I’m sure you didn’t mention it’s because you have to get up at  _6:30 for prayer!_ ” Arnold cried out, getting more and more worked up.

“Oh,” Kevin said softly, sitting up a little now with a furrowed brow, as though he’d just realized something very important. “Well, I didn’t actually, um ...I didn’t actually  _tell_ him I was leaving. I just kind of...left. I just didn’t wanna wake him up or anything, you know?”

Arnold’s eyes widened at that, causing Kevin to start to panic.

“Crap,” he said, worriedly. He could feel the surge of adrenaline and stress hormones flooding his veins now. He should’ve told Connor where he was going. He should’ve left a note—something,  _anything_.

“This is bad, isn’t it? I did bad?” He asked, to which Arnold just nodded.

“You did bad.”

“Dammit,” Kevin cursed. He leaned forward and tugged on his hair a bit. “I’m such an  _idiot_. I didn’t even  _think_ about waking him up. I mean, you should have seen him, Arnold. He was just so cute, laying there all curled up and cozy and his hair was all tangled and messy and he was snoring these tiny little adorable snores…”

“Wow,” Arnold sighed. “You are  _so_  smitten, it’s ridiculous. But ditching him with absolutely no explanation was a bad move, Kev. He’s gonna be rightfully pissed at you.”

“I didn’t  _ditch_  him,” he huffed. “I  _let_ him sleep. There’s a big difference.”

“Somehow, I don’t think he’ll see it that way.”

Kevin groaned again and grabbed the pillow out from under his head, smushing it over his face. He felt Arnold gently pull it off him after a moment. Their eyes met and Kevin could see that his best friend wasn’t angry with him—just very, very worried.

“Did you at least get his number this time?” Arnold asked with a sigh. “Please tell me you at least got his number.”

Kevin froze. He hadn’t gotten his number. He ditched the boy he was positively head over heels for, without so much as leaving a note, and now he couldn't even text him because he didn't even think to get his  _goddamn number_.

“No, I didn’t,” he sighed. “I really fucked this up, didn’t I?”

“ _Oh_ , yeah.” Arnold nodded, gently teasing his best friend. “But don’t worry, buddy. We’ll go back to the café tomorrow and get it all straightened out. You guys will probably have a little laugh about it. It’ll all work out fine, Kev. I promise.”

“We can’t,” Kevin whispered, shaking his head. “He doesn’t work on Sunday.”

“Monday, then,” Arnold said with a small smile, giving Kevin a comforting pat on the shoulder.

Kevin looked up into Arnold’s eyes and nodded, sadly. “Monday.”

Sighing yet again, Kevin got up to undress into just his temple garments for bed. He was done discussing how much he’d screwed up with Connor and, as it was, he’d only be getting two measly hours of sleep. After pulling off his pants, he reached into his pants pocket to pull out his phone and his missionary name badge, but only his phone could be found.

Alarmed now, Kevin began furiously digging through his pockets, but even after he’d emptied them all out completely, there was no name badge to be found,.

“Shit!” He shouted before letting out another long, painful moan.

“Buddy?”

”My name badge is gone.” Kevin let out a muffled groan into his hands. “It’s not here, Arnold. It’s  _gone_.”

“You sure you looked everywhere?” Arnold asked, worriedly. “Maybe it’s in your—”

“ _Yes_ , Arnold,” Kevin spat. “I looked everywhere. It’s not here.”

“Okay, well, don’t freak out. I’m sure it’ll turn up.” Arnold offered, reaching out and taking Kevin’s hand into his own. “We’ll find it.”

“What if I left it at the café?” Kevin asked, softly, sitting down next to Arnold on the bed. “What if Connor finds it?”

“He won’t.”

“But what if he does?”

“Even if he does,” Arnold soothed, “it’ll be okay. You’ll explain yourself. If he’s as amazing as you say he is, I’m sure he’ll understand.”

Kevin felt as though he might cry.

He didn’t get Connor’s number and he didn’t leave him a note and he didn’t have his name badge and  _he didn’t get Connor’s number_  and he was just the biggest idiot in the world, wasn’t he?

_Shit, shit, shit._

 

* * *

 

“Shit,” Connor cursed under his breath as he ran around the café the next morning, racing around like a crazy person, trying to put everything back in order from his date with Kevin the night before.

It was five o’clock in the morning. He was exhausted. Customers would be coming through the doors any second. He was still in his clothes from the night before and Kevin Price was absolutely  _nowhere_ to be found.

Connor McKinley  _never_  had mornings like this. This was…reckless and unexpected and nerve-wracking and kind of…exciting, in a way. Alright, it was very,  _very_ exciting.

And his life had never been all that exciting. No, it was always meticulously planned and measured and quiet and normal. And this  _boy_ —this  _Kevin_ —had suddenly come into his life like a tornado, somehow managing to ruffle everything up in the span of just one day. Now Connor was standing in the middle of a café, drained from exhaustion, running around like a nut, wearing yesterday’s clothes, trying to get out of there before his boss came in.

Where the Hell  _was_  Kevin, anyway? And why  _did_  he leave Connor in the middle of the night like one of those jerky guys in romantic comedies who bolts after sex because he's too afraid of commitment?

Not that he and Kevin had had sex. They didn’t. Well, not  _exactly_ , anyway. They came close a couple of times, but they refrained—for the most part, anyway. Maybe they’d fooled around a little, but it had only been their first date, after all, and Connor wasn’t  _that_  easy. But with Kevin, everything was weird and it didn’t feel like it was their first date—it felt as though they’d known each other for lifetimes.

That was when a realization suddenly washed over him—he hadn’t gotten Kevin’s phone number.  _Again_. He didn’t get it… _again_.

 _Idiot_.

Idiot, idiot,  _idiot_.

Well, they were  _both_  idiots, really.

What if Kevin tried to come back to see him and Connor wasn’t there? Connor couldn’t even  _text_ him to tell him where his apartment was or yell at him for leaving in the middle of the night like an asshole or curse him out or tell him he loved him or  _anything_. He supposed he’d just have to wait and see if Kevin would come and visit him at the café another day.

Another terrible thought then washed over him—what if Kevin  _never_ came back to the café? What if he’d just used Connor for that one night for shits and giggles and then  _never_ came back? What if, like many of the other lies that had come out of Kevin’s mouth, none of what he had told him about liking him and wanting to get to know him was true? What if everything he’d whispered in Connor’s ear the night before was nothing more than a lie to get into his pants?

 _No, no, no_.

Shaking his head, Connor tried to push that thought out of his mind. Kevin wouldn’t do that. Connor knew he wouldn’t. But then again, he still didn’t know Kevin all that well, did he?

No, but he knew Kevin well enough to know he would never do that. He'd told Connor how much he liked him—he’d heard the words come right out of Kevin’s mouth and, from where Connor had been sitting, he sure looked as though he meant every word of it.

Nodding sternly to himself, he vowed to put those negative thoughts out of his head and carry on with his day. If Kevin truly did like him, in the way Connor hoped he did, then he would come back and see him at the café another day—hopefully with a damn good explanation for why he’d run off like that.

As Connor was folding the blanket back up, the one that had covered them up the night before, he saw something slip out and fall to the ground with a clang. Upon picking it up, his breath caught in his throat, his eyes widening as he read the words across the black piece of plastic.

 _Elder Price  -_ _The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints_

Connor sighed as he placed the object into his own pocket.

It seemed as though there was a heck of a lot Connor McKinley still didn’t know about Kevin Price, after all.

 

* * *

 

"Just be cool,” Arnold advised as they made their way to the café. It was Monday now. Connor had told Kevin he usually worked all day on Mondays because he didn’t have any classes on Mondays. “You got this, bud. I know you do. Just be cool.”

Kevin let out a nervous sigh as he paced back and forth in front of the door of the café, pulling anxiously at the hem of his shirt, too scared to go inside.

“What if he hates me because I ran out?” Kevin asked Arnold for about the hundredth time that day.

“Kevin, he’s not going to hate you,” his best friend assured, for about the hundredth time that day. “If anything, it sounds like he’s freakin’ in love with you.”

“What if he says the other night was the worst decision he’s ever made in his life?” Kevin asked, breathlessly. “What if he regrets ever meeting me?”

“He won’t.”

“What if he says he never wants to see me again?”

Arnold just sighed at that one. This was hopeless.

“What if he—“

“Kevin?” Came a very familiar voice from behind him.

Kevin whipped around and there was Connor— _Connor_ —standing in the doorway of the café. His hair was all mussed up from working near the ovens and his coffee-stained apron was tired and wrinkled. But to Kevin, he looked nothing short of breathtaking.

“Connor.” Kevin beamed and raced towards the other boy, ready to wrap him up in a warm embrace, but all he received was a head shake and a cold shoulder.

“What’s wrong?” Kevin asked, his face falling the moment he realized Connor wasn’t returning the hug. Upon pulling back, he met Connor’s beautiful blue eyes, but they now looked slightly angry and his normally-happy face, steeled.

“Well, first of all, you left  _this_  behind the other night,” Connor snapped as he pulled an object out of his pocket, handing it to Kevin, “ _Elder Price.”_

Kevin’s blood suddenly ran cold. There it was, in plain sight—Kevin’s missionary name badge. Connor had found Kevin’s name badge. That meant Connor  _knew_. Kevin could feel his face falling even more now.  _Connor knew_. He knew everything. There was no more hiding who he truly was—not with Connor, anyway.

“I can—I can explain,” Kevin stammered, fumbling nervously with the name badge in his hands. “Just give me another chance, okay? I swear, I can explain all of this.”

“Second of all,” Connor went on as though he hadn’t heard a word Kevin had said, “you completely _ditched_  me the other night, Kevin Price. You disappeared in the middle of the night without so much as a  _note_. I mean, I guess you could’ve texted me, but you never bothered to get my phone number, did you? But I guess, since you’d already gotten what you wanted out of me, why bother getting my number, right?”

“Connor," he begged. He knew how pathetic he sounded, but he just couldn’t bear to lose this boy—he couldn’t lose Connor. He just couldn’t. “No, no, it’s not like that. It’s not like that at all. I—I really  _like_ you, Connor. I like you...so much. You have _no_ idea how much.”

“You say that,” he sighed, looking as though he wanted desperately to believe Kevin, but something was stopping him. “But you seem to say a lot of things that aren’t exactly true, don’t you?”

“It is true,” Arnold piped in and stepped in to stand beside Kevin. “Ever since he met you, you’re literally all he can talk about. He can’t sleep, he can’t eat—all he does is talk about you. It’s kind of annoying, actually. He just won’t shut up about how awesome he thinks you are and how smart you are and how funny you are and how cute you are…”

“Arnold!” Kevin whispered and nudged him hard in the stomach, making Connor stifle a little laugh.

“Ow!” Arnold shot Kevin a glare. “Anyway, you might not know this, but he actually risked, like, everything by going out to meet you the other night. Mormon missionaries have these really strict rules we have to follow. You can’t date anyone. You can’t stay up past ten. You can’t even drink coffee, even though, I mean, we all know this one does,” he pointed to Kevin, making Connor smile, “and being  _gay_? I mean, forget about it.”

“I know,” Connor said softly, stepping down off the café steps and bridging the small gap between them. “I know all about it.”

“How?” Kevin asked, confused. “How could you possibly know that?”

“Because I used to  _be_  one, Kevin,” he admitted softly.

“What?” Arnold cried out.

“ _What_?” Kevin gasped the same sentiment as Arnold, not having anything else intelligible to say to that. “Wait,  _what_? You’re a—you’re a Mormon?”

“Weren’t expecting that, were you?” He asked, his eyes no longer angry. No, now they were back to their normal, amused selves—the ones Kevin adored even though they were probably mocking him again.

“You’re a  _Mormon_?” Kevin asked again, in disbelief.

“ _Ex_ -Mormon.” Connor nodded. He reached out to place a hand on Kevin’s shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. “You’re talking to ex-District Leader Elder McKinley of San Francisco’s District Seven right here.”

“This is crazy.” Kevin shook his head, letting out a disbelieving laugh at how ridiculous this whole thing was. “I can’t—I can’t believe this.”

“So, yeah, I know exactly how much you risked by coming to see me the other night.” Connor said, meaning it. “And I’m flattered, I really am. But next time, just give me a little heads up if you’re going to be disappearing in the middle of the night like that, okay? It makes a guy feel a little cheap, if you know what I mean.”

“Of course.” Kevin nodded furiously, his brain racing a mile a minute trying to process all of this new information. “Wait, next time? Did you just say next time?”

Connor leaned in and pressed a delicate kiss to Kevin’s cheek. Upon pulling back, he gave Kevin a warm smile, clasping his hands into Kevin’s and giving them a squeeze. “Next time.”

“Give me your phone,” Kevin demanded, breathlessly, urgently grabbing at the redhead’s pocket. “I’m putting my number in right now.”

They exchanged numbers and had a little laugh over the whole thing, just as Arnold said they would. Connor gave both missionaries two chocolate chip cookies and espressos to go—on the house, of course.

“Bye, Kevin,” Connor whispered into his ear as they hugged goodbye. “I’ll see you Sunday, okay?”

“Sunday.” He beamed and leaned back in to give Connor just one more sweet kiss on the lips.

“Sunday,” Connor murmured longingly into Kevin’s mouth. “Oh, and don’t go getting caught on me, okay?” He smirked, once their lips had parted, reaching up to play flirtatiously with Kevin’s collar. “I’d hate to have what little time we have left together get cut short by sloppy rule-breaking.”

“I won’t.” Kevin laughed and leaned in for just one more kiss. “At least we can text each other now, right?” He added, to which Connor nodded happily.

“Right.”

“Alright, we gotta  _go,_ ” Arnold finally said, after about ten minutes of watching Kevin and Connor make kissy faces at each other. He kept tapping Kevin on the shoulder, but instead of listening, Kevin just knocked his forehead into Connor’s and gave him just  _one_ more kiss.

“Come on, lover boy. Time’s up," his friend insisted, grabbing Kevin by the collar and yanking him away. “We have work to do, remember?”

Kevin nodded reluctantly and followed Arnold out into the street, turning around for a brief moment only to flash Connor his warmest smile.

_Sunday._

How Kevin would survive six whole days without seeing Connor McKinley, he honestly didn’t know.

 

* * *

 

“Did I mention how good you are at kissing?” Connor mumbled into Kevin’s mouth one day while they were laying in Connor’s bed, making out. They’d been at it for hours now and they weren’t planning on stopping anytime soon. “Like, really, _really_  good.”

“I’m really good at a lot of things,” Kevin murmured into the kiss.

Rolling his eyes, Connor jokingly pushed Kevin off of him in favor of laying flat on his back. “Way to kill the mood with your giant ego.”

“Wrong,” Kevin said with a grin. “My giant ego _is_ the mood.”

Connor burst out laughing at that—an honest laugh from the depths of his belly.

“You are such a dum dum, you know that?” He teased through subsiding laughter. “That literally made  _no_  sense.”

Forgiving Kevin for his silly comment, he rolled back onto his side and moved in close to Kevin, facing him. They were so close now, their noses nearly bumped together, and all Connor wanted to do was kiss this stupid boy again…and again and again and again and never stop kissing him until he had to board that plane come the end of August. And even then, he didn’t want to stop kissing him. He never wanted to stop kissing him.

“This whole thing makes no sense," Connor said, softly, after a moment. “You and me. Meeting each other like this. This whole thing—it doesn’t make any sense.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, don’t you think it’s kind of weird?” Connor asked, looking deep into the other’s chocolate brown eyes—eyes that were filled with  _something_  out of the ordinary. He’d seen that look in other people’s eyes before, but never when they were looking into Connor’s. But now he had a boy looking that way at him. Connor wouldn’t dare say those eyes were filled with love. No. It was only their third date, for crying out loud. But they were filled with  _something_ , that was for sure. Something for Connor—something real and magical and urgent and passionate and all-encompassing, for Connor.

“I mean, think about it for a minute,” Connor tried to reason. “Neither of us are French. I’m from Ohio and you’re from Utah and yet we meet here in  _France_  of all places at a coffee shop literally called _Café Destiny_. We’re both  _Mormon_. We’re both  _insanely_ attracted to each other…”

“Insanely attracted," Kevin murmured softly and took the opportunity to plant a small kiss to Connor’s cheek. He proceeded to trail his lips up and down, gently, over Connor’s rosy cheeks. His lips were moving slowly—so slowly—making Connor  _feel_  things again.

By the time Kevin pulled back, Connor was certain his face was flushed again. It had to be. And hearing those words drip off Kevin’s tongue followed by quite possibly the softest, gentlest kisses he’d ever felt in his life…well, if Heaven did exist, Connor was damn near certain this was it.

“I don’t know. It’s just—well, don’t you think all of this is just a little  _too_  weird?” Connor asked again as he crept closer to Kevin. Finally, he just laughed when Kevin didn’t say anything on the matter. “You know what, I don’t know what I’m saying. I’m sure it’s just a coincidence. This is all just a weird coincidence.”

“I don’t believe in coincidences,” Kevin whispered softly, lifting up their intertwined hands and giving the top of Connor’s a soft kiss.

“Well, what do you believe in then?” Connor whispered, reaching up to run his fingers through the other’s soft locks of hair. “It certainly isn’t Joseph Smith.”

The joke made them both giggle like the horrible Mormons they were. Kevin lifted his partner’s hand again, giving it a sweet kiss, making little bolts of electric shoot up Connor’s arm.

“I believe in fate," Kevin finally whispered. “I think fate brought us together.”

“Why would fate bring us together just to rip us apart in two months?” Connor asked sadly. “It doesn’t make any sense.”

“Because,” Kevin murmured softly, placing a delicate kiss to Connor’s neck. The redhead closed his eyes, letting out a quiet moan at the touch. “If it really is fate,” he continued through the small kisses he was trailing down his partner’s neck, “then fate will bring us back together again.”

“That’s how it works?” Connor laughed. He loved laughing at this stupid boy kissing his neck. This stupid boy who lied about everything and snuck out of the house and broke the rules and spoke horrible,  _horrible_  French and was pretty much the best kisser Connor McKinley had ever met in his entire life.

“That’s how it works," Kevin whispered into Connor’s neck. “Trust me.”

A few quiet moments went by and Kevin’s hands started wandering places they probably ought not to have gone—at least, not for any good, self-respecting Mormon boy. But Kevin wasn’t a good Mormon boy—no, he was quite possibly the worst Mormon in existence, Connor thought, but he just so happened to be the best thing to ever happen to Connor McKinley.

“Do you really believe that?” Connor eventually asked through a quiet giggle.

His eyes were still closed and Kevin’s tongue was still roaming up and down his neck and his hand was going everywhere it could possibly go. It was hard to concentrate like this.

“Kevin?” He asked again when he didn’t receive a response. He tapped his back to get his attention. “Kevin? Are you even listening to me?”

Kevin wasn’t listening, he was too busy devouring Connor’s neck with every ounce of his being. Connor never would get a response that evening—not after Kevin’s hands moved up Connor’s back, underneath his shirt, softly grazing his skin before trailing them all the way back down again.

 _Definitely_ , Connor thought to himself as he heard himself let out a quiet gasp at the touch.  _This is definitely Heaven_.

 

* * *

 

A month had passed since then and the day had finally come—the day both Kevin and Connor had been dreading for the past two months, the day Connor had to leave France and go back to college, in Ohio.

They’d spent their entire last week together, Kevin sneaking out of the mission house every single night past curfew and not really getting any sleep. On Sunday, they spent the entire day and night together, much of it tangled between crying and making out and eating ice cream and holding each other and whispering sweet words and crying again.

And now the long-dreaded Monday had finally arrived—the Monday neither one of them had hoped would ever come.

“I can’t believe this is it,"  Kevin said softly, rubbing little circles into Connor’s cheek as they both stood at the gate. They’d just called Connor’s line to board, but he was waiting until the very last minute. He needed to spend as much time as he possibly could with Kevin, even if that only meant a measly extra five minutes.

“You have no idea how much I’m going to miss you, Connor McKinley,” Kevin whispered as he leaned in to brush his lips against Connor’s. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” He lifted up the redhead’s chin, forcing him to meet his eyes. “You know that, right?”

Connor nodded, trying desperately to hold back his tears, but he could still feel a few dripping down his face, regardless.

“Are you sure you still want to go through with this?” He asked Kevin, quietly. “With the plan?”

“No," Kevin shook his head, speaking honestly. “But I think it’s probably for the best, don’t you?”

Connor didn’t answer—he just sniffled and buried his face into Kevin’s neck. He could feel the boy’s arms wrap around him so tight, squeezing him, trying to soothe him, but it did nothing to ease the sadness that was in his heart. He loved this boy, Kevin Price. He was certain of that now. More certain than he’d ever been about anything before in his life.

“Vol 286 à Cleveland, embarquement maintenant.” The voice came over the loudspeaker.

“I have to go,” Connor murmured into Kevin’s neck. He squeezed the brunette one more time before pulling back. And, as planned, he took his phone out. Kevin did the same.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Connor asked again. He could see his own hands trembling now, clutching the phone in his hands. “Because maybe we don’t have to do this. Maybe we could make it work, somehow. Maybe we could just—”

“If we keep texting each other and talking, then we’ll never get over each other, Connor," Kevin whispered softly, reaching up to card his hand through the other boy’s hair. “You know we won’t. This way, we can at least  _try_  to move on, even if it hurts. We both agreed it was the only way to make sure we don’t…hold onto this. We both knew we only had two months.”

“Two months," Connor repeated in a whisper. “The best two months of my entire life.”

“Mine too,” he said and Connor could see the brunette’s eyes were filling up with unshed tears to match Connor’s. “Alright, are you ready?”

He nodded, reluctantly. At the same time, they both opened their phones and proceeded to delete each other’s numbers, as planned.

“Mine’s done,” Kevin said, sniffling. “How about yours?”

“Done,” Connor whispered, but after a moment, his resolve broke and out came a loud, heartbreaking sob, nearly causing him to drop his phone to the ground.

“No, no. Come ‘ere,” Kevin whispered and pulled a sobbing Connor into a tight embrace. “Shh, shh, shh. It’ll be okay. I promise, it’ll all be okay.”

“No, it won’t,” he pouted, hiccuping into Kevin’s chest. "It won't be okay."

“Yes, it will,” Kevin cooed into Connor’s ear as he rocked him slightly, bringing his hands up and down the redhead’s back in a soothing motion. “Don’t cry, please. Please don’t cry, Connor. It’s breaking my heart.”

“I’m sorry,” he blubbered into Kevin’s chest. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Kevin soothed. “Everything’s okay.”

Nothing was okay, but Connor didn’t say anything else. He just stood there in Kevin’s arms and cried, trying to engrain Kevin’s sweet voice, the feeling of his arms wrapped so tightly around him, his hands gliding over his back, his hair, his everywhere, into his long term memory.

It wasn’t fair. Nothing about this was fair. It wasn’t fair that the universe had brought them together only to rip them apart. It wasn’t fair that Connor had to go back to a life without Kevin’s arms around him. It wasn’t fair that he couldn’t tell him how much he loved him, no matter how much he wanted to. Nothing about any of this seemed fair, to Connor.

Finally, the redhead pulled back when they announced last call for the flight yet again. He tried to stop the tears from rolling down his cheeks, but it was honestly no use. He took in a deep breath and nodded his head in finality.

“Goodbye, Kevin Price from Salt Lake City, Utah,” he managed to choke out in a whisper. He tried to give Kevin the warmest smile he could muster, but he knew it probably came out looking weak and sad and heartbroken instead.

“Goodbye, Connor McKinley from Dayton, Ohio,” Kevin whispered with an equally heartbroken smile, bringing Connor’s face back in for one last kiss.

 

* * *

 

It was hard, at first. It was very,  _very_ hard.

And even after two years had gone by, it was still hard.

Because no matter where Connor went in his life, he’d never met anybody quite like Kevin Price. Nobody made him laugh quite like Kevin or made his heart lurch quite like Kevin or made his body tingle in anticipation quite like Kevin.

But, luckily, as fate would have it, Connor McKinley and Kevin Price would cross paths yet again.

“Kevin?” Connor gasped as he approached a tall-ish man with wavy, brunette hair, busy wading through a rack of blue jeans.

They were at Bloomingdale’s on 59th street in Manhattan. A long ways away from both the Midwest and France. Connor was there doing some shopping, trying to find the right outfit to wear to his first audition here in New York City. He was expecting to find overpriced jeans and tee shirts and maybe even a little bit of self-loathing in the fitting room, but he certainly was not expecting to find his long lost love, Kevin Price, casually browsing the Fall collection.

Connor had hoped, wished,  _prayed_  (even though he no longer believed) over the past two years that he’d run into Kevin Price again—that fate would bring them back together once again, the way they were meant to be.

But he didn't actually believe it would happen. Not in a million, zillion years. But as he stood there, staring at Kevin  _right_  in front of him, he silently replayed the sweet, heartbreaking words the other man had once told him, words that had cemented themselves into his brain.

_“Because if it really is fate, then fate will bring us back together again.”_

But, of course, being an intellectual and all, Connor hadn’t really  _believed_  Kevin’s words. Sure, it was a stroke of miraculous luck they’d even found each other in the first place—two Mormon boys from middle America running into one another in  _France_ , of all places—but even then, Connor hadn’t really believed it was fate.

Until now.

As the young brunette turned around with a smile, his smile turned into utter shock and awe as their eyes locked together. Dropping the jeans in his hands, Kevin lunged at Connor, pulling him into his arms, making the redhead gasp and laugh and cry all at the same time.

It was a stroke of amazing luck. Connor had found Kevin. Now they could be together, in their own country, the way they were meant to be together.

But, as it turned out, fate was cruel to the pair of lovers yet again.

Kevin Price would only be in New York City for one night.

“One night?” Connor asked, sadly, as they sipped on coffees at a local Starbucks, hands locked together across the small table. “That’s all you’re here for? Just the one night?”

“Just the one night,” Kevin repeated, equally as devastated.

As they sat there together, catching up and talking and drinking coffee and holding hands, Connor learned that the smart, rebellious Kevin Price had gotten a job as travel writer.

The stable-but-aimless job sounded perfect for someone like Kevin, Connor thought, since Kevin, ever the adventurer, had a somewhat strained, tumultuous relationship with his parents these days. They hadn’t exactly welcomed him back home with open arms after his failed mission and they certainly didn’t encourage him much after he’d come out as gay.

No, there was no way he’d be happy living at home with them in Utah, nor would he be all that content working in some boring office job somewhere.

At least, with this new job, Kevin would be able to travel around the world on someone else’s dime and write about it for an up-and-coming magazine. It sounded like a dream come true and Connor was honestly even a little bit jealous, even though his own dream had always been to be a stage actor in New York City.

Nevertheless, Connor was quickly realizing that this whole fate thing was awfully fickle and confusing. If it was indeed fate, then it seemed to revel in bringing them together for a brief moment, only to tear them apart moments later. And short of Kevin ending his new, exciting career as a travel writer so he could be with Connor, or Connor ending his own budding career in New York to be with Kevin, well, there really was no way they could be together for more than this one night.

 _One night._ The words hurt him, burned him, scathed him. He finally had his Kevin back—his Kevin Price—but it was only for one measly night.

“I was kind of hoping for at least a week,” Connor joked with a sad, half-smile to which Kevin agreed, equally as devastated.

A moment of silence passed, Kevin’s tearful eyes gazing into Connor’s with just as much pain and longing that Connor felt. He could have easily gotten lost swimming in those eyes for hours on end—he’d missed them terribly and they were just so warm and chocolatey and beautiful.

“I’ll take one night,” Connor whispered hoarsely and forcibly pulled Kevin’s mouth down into his, eliciting a pained moan from the other man.

“One night,” Kevin gasped as he slightly parted his lips from Connor’s before the redhead roughly brought him back in again.

“One night.”

And so they had one night.

 

* * *

 

And this kept happening, over the next few years. Connor would be somewhere, going about his business, and then suddenly there was Kevin—the same sweet, smart, dorky, gorgeous Kevin he’d always known. And then he and Kevin would have one amazing night together, full of passion and longing and heartbreak and laughter and tears.

Sometimes they’d be afforded two nights and, sometimes, even three, but that was only if they were lucky—very, very lucky.

Usually, though, they weren’t so lucky.

And they kept on doing this for the next four years until, finally, Connor’s heart just couldn’t take it anymore. It just wasn't enough. It hurt too much, the pain of watching Kevin leave every time, only to be left alone and empty and devastated.

Whatever tether had bound them together over the past few years, whether it was indeed fate or destiny or whatnot—had to be broken. It would be for both of their own goods, Connor decided.

And so Connor vowed that the next time he saw Kevin Price, whenever that was fated to be, he’d tell him just that.

 

* * *

 

"Connor?”

He heard Becky, his stage manager, calling out to him as she cracked the door to his dressing room open just a bit and peered inside.

“Someone from the audience is claiming he knows you—a Kevin Price? He's asking to come back and see you.”

Connor just sighed as he let his face fall into his hands.

“Should I tell him to go away?”

Connor thought seriously for a moment. It was tempting to have Becky just tell him to go away, but Connor still didn’t have Kevin Price’s phone number and, unless he stood up to him now, face to face, Kevin would never know the real reason and then neither of them could ever get any closure or heal or move on.

“No,” Connor told her, softly, standing up. “It’s okay. Let him in.”

The last night they had spent together was over nine months ago—the longest stretch of time they’d ever gone without seeing each other, ever since the first time they’d run into each other at Bloomingdale’s. The last time Connor had left Kevin at the airport, he secretly promised himself that it would be the last time. It had to be. And Connor wasn't one to ever break a promise, not even to himself.

The incessant, continuous, nagging  _hope_ that he’d run into Kevin, the  _waiting_  for Kevin, the never knowing when he’d  _see_ Kevin again, was starting to take its toll on him, on his life.

Connor was turning twenty-six years old next month and he'd still never been in a serious relationship before because he was secretly always waiting around for  _Kevin_  to be ready to start their life together. He knew he wasn’t getting any younger. He needed to make a choice and, this time, for the very first time, he wouldn’t be choosing Kevin. It broke his heart just thinking about doing it, but he knew he had to. It was the only way.

Maybe he could’ve  _told_ Kevin all of this over the phone if they’d gotten each other’s numbers again. But they vowed to never exchange numbers unless they were going to be together for real—unless they were signing on for the real deal. But the “real deal” never seemed to come and Connor was growing tired of waiting. He was sick and tired of waiting and, God, was he lonely.

So, he did the online dating thing and the gay bar thing and one of the guys he’d met recently didn't seem so bad. He was no Kevin Price, not by a long shot, but he wasn’t so bad. And Connor McKinley could live with not so bad. It certainly was better than being alone all the time, waiting to see if Kevin would miraculously show up at his doorstep or in a supermarket or on a boat (yes, that happened).

"It's either a coincidence or you're stalking me.” Connor quipped as Kevin Price walked into his dressing room. He watched as the big smile on the brunette’s face fell the moment he got a good look at Connor’s eyes.

“Huh?” Kevin asked, confused. “I’m not—”

“Pick one," he prodded, as though he hadn’t heard him. “You’re either here by coincidence or you’ve taken to stalking me. Which is it?”

"It's neither, Connor,” Kevin said, softly. “I was in the audience. I didn’t even know you were  _in_ this show until I saw the Playbill. You could’ve knocked me over when I saw your name.” He said, softly and with a lot of pride in his voice, but Connor wouldn’t let that deter him from telling Kevin what he needed to tell him. “Congratulations on the show, Connor. It was incredible. You’re...you’re just...incredible.”

“Thanks,” he stammered awkwardly and ran a nervous hand through his hair. He still hadn’t embraced Kevin. And that, of course, would let Kevin know that something was wrong—very, very wrong.

“But you, um, you don’t look very happy to see me.” Kevin said, worriedly, his face dropping once again. “Is everything okay?”

“Of course I’m happy to see you, Kevin. I’m always happy to see you. I love—”, Connor choked on his own words.

 _That_  was certainly  _not_ what he wanted to say to him when he was trying to break up with him—break up from a relationship that was never even a relationship to begin with. It was all very complicated.

“I meant I love—I love seeing you,” Connor nervously clarified.

“Then what’s wrong?” Kevin asked, concerned, as he went to pull Connor into their usual embrace. However, the redhead just pushed Kevin away again, albeit gently.

“I can’t do this anymore, Kevin,” Connor said, shaking his head. “I don’t know about you, but I’m getting sick and tired of only seeing you whenever the universe decides we should bump into each other again.”

“I know.” Kevin nodded, sadly. “It's like fate just keeps throwing us together and...”

"And you keep breaking us apart," he snapped, surprising even himself. He could’ve taken it back, could’ve said he was sorry. But, he wasn’t sorry. He meant it.

"Connor," Kevin said, sadly, shaking his head. “No.”

"Yeah," he said, firmly. "Look, you can believe whatever you want to believe and if you truly think it's fate or destiny or whatever bringing us together, then fine. But fate won't make your choices for you, Kevin. You have to choose whether or not you want to stay here with me, in one place, and give this a real try. And if not, then well...well, then it won’t matter how many times the universe keeps throwing us together because the next time I see you, don't expect me to bother saying hello."

"Connor, it's not that simple, I can't just—"

"You _can_ just," he stressed. "But you won't, will you?"

"Connor..."

"Becky will show you out,” he said cooly, showing him to the door. “Goodbye, Kevin. I hope you have a really amazing life, I really do. I just can’t be a part of it anymore. Not like this, anyway.”

“Connor, no,” Kevin begged, pulling the redhead back and into his warmth with urgency, desperation, longing. “You can’t do this. It’s fate. You and me, it’s always been...you and me.”

“You did this,” he said, quietly. “Not me. I’ve been here, in one place. I haven’t left. I’ve been in the same place for the past four years. And you just come in and out, whenever it’s convenient for you, blaming it on fate, without even caring about what that  _does_  to me.”

“I do care,” Kevin insisted. “I care about you more than you could ever possibly understand.”

“But not enough to stay, right?” Connor asked, feeling tears well up in his eyes. “You have to leave, Kevin. Now. Just leave right now.”

Kevin was quiet for a few moments, looking as though he wasn’t quite sure if he should say what he was about to say.

“I love you, Connor," he finally admitted, swallowing something loud and big and anxious. “I think—I, um, I think I have for a long time.”

The redhead’s eyes widened at that and he was quiet for quite a long time. He just hadn’t expected Kevin to say those words, even in the heat of the moment, even with the fear of losing Connor forever.

“I love you, too,” he eventually reciprocated Kevin’s words in a soft whisper. “But that doesn’t change anything. If you really loved me, you wouldn’t keep doing this to me, not unless you were willing to stay and try this—try us. You’d choose to stay with me and give this a try or you’d choose to let me move on and live my life. But  _this_? You certainly wouldn’t keep...doing  _this_ , holding me back but then only giving me a little taste of what could be. You wouldn’t do that. Not if you really loved me. Because it’s not fair, Kevin,” he said with a sniffle. “And you know it’s not.”

Connor could see tears rolling down Kevin’s cheeks now, but he had to stand his ground.

Kevin looked heartbroken, stricken by Connor’s words. But, eventually, he just nodded and left the room without any further protest, a silent way of telling Connor that he really did love him and wouldn’t be holding him back anymore. That wasn’t exactly the choice Connor had been hoping Kevin would make, but it seemed to be his final choice, nonetheless.

And Connor thought, in that moment, that he’d lost Kevin Price forever.

But, as it turned out, he was wrong.

A few minutes later, Connor heard the distant sounds of fighting outside. It sounded like Becky and a man, arguing. Connor stepped out of his dressing room to find that Kevin was still there, now trying to get back into the backstage area, with Becky holding him back.

“It’s okay,” Connor said to Becky as he lifted her hands off of Kevin’s shoulders. Turning to face Kevin, Connor steeled himself, ready to tell him off again. He stopped when he saw Kevin holding out a hand with his phone in it, gesturing for Connor to take it.

“Look at it,” Kevin said, urgently, pressing Connor to take the phone. “Please...please just look at it.”

Connor slowly, reluctantly, took the phone from him and looked at the screen. The contact read  _Connor_  with little hearts surrounding it. Beneath it, Connor saw his number, the one from years ago that he still had to this day.

“You didn’t delete it.” Connor murmured softly, followed by a small laugh. He could feel a tear rolling down his cheeks. “You told me you did but you didn’t.”

Kevin’s mouth twitched up into a small smile. “I lied.”

“I guess some things never change.” Connor smiled sadly and handed the phone back to him. Becky awkwardly excused herself upon realizing that Connor was okay, leaving the two men alone together once again.

“I’ve been really stupid,” Kevin said, his smile falling a little. “About all this. About us.” He swallowed hard and ran a hand through his hair. “And I’m sorry. I’m  _so_  sorry.”

“No more stupid than I’ve been,” he admitted. “I shouldn’t have blamed you. It’s just as much my fault as it is yours. We both did this.”

“Then I think we should fix it,” Kevin said, softly, reaching out to take Connor’s hands into his, “because I love you and I know you love me too. We should be  _together,_  Connor, for real this time. I want...I want the real deal, with you.” He paused a moment and squeezed Connor’s hands. “If—if you’ll have me, that is.”

“But what about your job, Kevin? Your wonderful, amazing job...,” Connor trailed off. “You shouldn’t need to give that up because of…  _me_.”

“It’s a choice, Connor. My choice,” Kevin said, firmly. “I’m making a choice to be with you. A choice I know in my heart is the right one. It’s… it's the only one.”

“But you shouldn’t need to make that choice," Connor stammered. He could feel the bite of tears behind his eyes. “I can't ask you to do that, Kevin. It’s not fair.”

“Life isn’t fair,” Kevin said. “Life isn’t fair and it’s filled with choices we have to make and I’m making mine. I want  _you_ , Connor. I want to date you—properly, this time. And I want to live with you in one place and...and marry you and have kids with you...I mean, if—if you want that kind of thing..”, he stammered, making Connor chuckle just a little, “and I want to grow old with you and  _die_  with you.”

“Morbid,” he quipped, scrunching up his nose.

Kevin laughed and squeezed Connor’s hands tighter. “I want it all, Connor, with you. It’s always been you. And I’ll never be able to have any of that unless I choose to. We’re never going to be in the right place at the right time. It’s never going to just...magically  _happen_ for us...not unless we make it happen," he said pointedly before letting out a small sigh. “And I really hope you want this just as much as I do, Connor, because if you don’t, I just don’t know what I’ll—”

His rant was cut off by a kiss—an urgent, passionate, desperate kiss from Connor, one that could only come from not having seen each other in so very long—and it was in that moment that fate took a turn and the stars aligned and everything was as it should be.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!! And so sorry the ending seems a bit rushed - I would've loved to include more scenes of them running around Paris being adorable, but the deadline was looming and I didn't have time ahhh. Maybe a side fic? XD


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